


Kings

by Udunie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Consensual Infidelity, Cuckolding, Gambling, Partner Swapping, Possible Threesome, Snark, a lot of snark actually, it's not as bad as it sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-06 16:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17943302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: “So…” Peter said. “Want to make a bet?”“No,” Chris said immediately just as Stiles said yes.Peter laughed, head thrown back. He looked good, Chris was man enough to admit that, anyone with eyes could see it.“Hear me out first,” he said, and Chris knew. He knew very well that they shouldn’t. Nothing good ever came out of listening to Peter Hale talk, but by then it was too late to stop him. “In fact, you hear me out, Stiles, you seem to be the reasonable one.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo, yeah, I don't need another wip, but at the same time, I'm irrationally pleased with how this is coming along, and I crave the feedback lol
> 
> This also might end up being Stetopher? I will update the tags when and if that happens... Also, I have literally no idea when I will be updating this, but it WILL be updated, I swear.
> 
> As always, all my love to Emma <3

“You have a nice boyfriend there,” Peter said, peering at them over his cards as he checked his hand. “It would be a shame if something were to happen to him.”

Chris could feel his pulse rising even as Stiles made a little sound beside him.

“That’s a lot of talk for someone down to two thousand,” he told Peter, trying to sound unaffected, but he knew Peter saw through him. He  _ was  _ his ex after all.

“Um…” Stiles said, fiddling with his tie. He never liked wearing one, and getting threatened probably didn’t make him any more comfortable. If it was even a threat. One could never know with Peter.

The man shrugged, flashing him a sharp grin.

“It’s for charity, so I don’t mind losing. Much.”

Chris felt a muscle twitch in his jaw. He shouldn’t have let himself be roped into this, but it was too late to back out now. And Peter was right, everything the house made tonight went towards cancer research, he couldn’t exactly make a scene. People expected the head of Argent Enterprises to lead with example. Especially after his father and sister just went to jail for embezzling.

He was still glad there were only him and Peter in the game by their table, leaving them some flimsy privacy.

Derek made his way towards them, peering over the shoulder of the croupier, but he could probably sense the tension, because he stopped a respectful distance away.

Peter huffed in annoyance.

“Go away,” he said, shooing at his nephew. “I’m staying for a while.”

Chris raised an eyebrow, glancing at the table. Peter was already all in, and Chris didn’t think he had anything. Then again, the man was good at bluffing.

Derek raised his hands in surrender and backed away, making Stiles chuckle. It sounded a bit nervous, and Chris could understand it. Peter had been flirting with them all night. Shamelessly, even for him.

The five cards were already flipped on the table; King of Hearts, five and seven of Diamonds, King of Spades, ten of Clubs.

Chris had the King of Diamonds and the Ace of Spades in his hand.

Stiles dragged his chair a bit closer, the legs scraping over the wooden floor loudly and Chris put his arm around the boy’s shoulder with a smile. 

“So…” Peter said. “Want to make a bet?” 

“No,” Chris said immediately just as Stiles said  _ yes _ .

Peter laughed, head thrown back. He looked good, Chris was man enough to admit that, anyone with eyes could see it.

“Hear me out first,” he said, and Chris  _ knew _ . He knew very well that they shouldn’t. Nothing good ever came out of listening to Peter Hale talk, but by then it was too late to stop him. “In fact,  _ you  _ hear me out, Stiles, you seem to be the reasonable one.”

Chris saw his boyfriend flushing beside him from the corner of his eyes, and he had to take a deep breath.

“If you win, this round,” Peter said, tapping the back of the cards lying in front of him, “I’m matching whatever the house made tonight for the research center.”

Chris stilled, very carefully holding himself back from gaping. He was pretty sure the event had to have raised money in the hundred thousands, if not a few million.

Stiles made a sound like a dying whale, his fingers twitching on the edge of the table. Chris knew how much this meant to him, ever since his grandma died.

“Ugh… oh  _ god _ ,” the boy said, swallowing audibly. “And what if you win?”

Peter pretended to think about it, just for good measure - Chris had no illusions that he didn’t already have a plan. And a plan B to Z to boot.

“Well, let’s see... “ Peter glanced at the croupier for a second, but the guy acted like he wasn’t even there, absentmindedly shuffling a pack of cards, just like a good casino employee should.

“If I win,” Peter said with that familiar, dangerous glint in his eyes. “I want to have fun with you tonight,” he said, dipping his margarita glass at Stiles. 

Chris’ arm tightened around his boyfriend.

“And!” Peter said before they could even react, “I want  _ you _ ,” he said, glancing at Chris, “to watch.”

Stiles rubbed his nose. His whole body was thrumming with energy.

“He’s trying to trick us,” Chris said, because he knew. Stiles nodded jerkily in understanding, not even looking at him. Peter made an affronted noise that nobody was buying and looked at Stiles expectantly.

The boy bit his lower lip, his brow furrowed before he turned to Chris.

“Are you…Would you…?”

Chris understood the question:  _ Would you be okay with this? _

He took a deep, calming breath. He loved this kid. Most people thought that he was having some sort of midlife crisis when he got together with someone so young; and it was only the fact that Stiles was already independently wealthy in his own right that they didn’t call him a gold digger. The thing was… maybe he did have a midlife crisis, but he couldn’t really help it. Everything was so new and exciting with Stiles, it made him feel twenty years younger than he was.

But the question still remained. In the worst case scenario, would he be willing to watch his ex fuck his current boyfriend in front of him? As jealous as he had been during the whole night whenever Peter just looked at Stiles… the answer wasn’t as clear as it should have been. In fact, the first thing his brain jumped to was how… how incredibly sexy it would be. 

Then he remembered what Stiles - who already knew about his past relationship with Peter - said when he first actually laid eyes on the man tonight.

_ Oh no, he’s hot. _

He glanced over at Peter who had the audacity to wink at him. He looked back at Stiles, giving a squeeze to his shoulder.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, because if they were anything, they were honest with each other. Stiles looked into his eyes, serious and clever.

“I’m in, if you are,” he said with more certainty than what Chris could hope to have.

He nodded.

“Alright. Deal.”

***

Stiles was still a bit dizzy as they headed up to their room in the hotel above the casino. He couldn’t believe it. Fucking full house. He still wasn’t sure that Peter didn’t just cheat and pull the fourth King out of his ass.

At least they had a moment to themselves, because Peter had to exchange his earnings.

“So,” Stiles said, reaching out and taking Chris’ hand tentatively. “Want to make a break for it?”

Chris sighed, squeezing his fingers.

“I’m not the running type. But say the word and I will get you out.”

Stiles felt his lips twitch into a reluctant smile. Chris was… he was hot and responsible and caring and… he really had no idea how they ended up together, but he was always grateful that they did. 

And now there was this situation.

“Is this… is this going to ruin things?” he asked, because okay, he had eyes and Peter was absolutely  _ smoking _ , but he would rather not have this end in a breakup, thank you.

Chris pulled him to a stop and looked into his eyes, making Stiles swallow with renewed nerves.

“ _ No _ . I have no idea what he wants to achieve with this. Maybe he just finds you irresistible,” he said with a raised eyebrow that made Stiles flush. “Maybe he wants to take some fucked up revenge on me. Maybe both or something else we can’t even begin to understand, but whatever he wants is his business and I will not let it affect this,” he finished, lifting their joined hands and kissing Stiles’ knuckles.

“Okay,” Stiles muttered, face red.

Okay. He could do this.

***

They were right in front of their door when Peter caught up to them. Chris watched him - with Stiles at his side - as he literally strutted down the hallway, his tie loosened, his hands in his pockets and his face split in a grin that both had Chris hot under the collar and made him want to punch the guy into next week.

“Gentlemen,” Peter said easily, stopping too close for comfort. Chris opened the door with his card key, trying and failing to ignore him. He could feel Stiles tense under his hand on the small of his back.

They filed into the suite, and Chris turned on the lights.

“How do you want to do this?” he asked. It was always better to set the rules right out front with Peter. Otherwise, he would play them. Not like he hasn’t already.

“Hm… That’s a bit cold, Christopher, we’re supposed to have  _ fun _ ,” the man said, giving him a long look before his eyes slid over to Stiles who was already beat red. Poor boy always had a hard time believing how lovely he looked, but Chris was very aware of the heat in Peter’s gaze. “Why don’t you pour us some drinks first? Then you can just sit down in that comfy armchair and relax.”

Chris was reluctant to turn his back on Peter, but he knew he couldn't let him get a rise that easily. It would only egg him on, and that was definitely not the direction Chris wanted this to go.

“Want a drink, babe?” he asked Stiles casually. The boy shook his head, his lips twitching at the pet name. Chris rarely used it, but he felt perfectly justified right now.

He nodded, pouring two glasses of whiskey, tentatively wishing he had some fast-acting poison laying around. 

“Here you go,” he said, offering one up for Peter, but he didn’t let go of the glass right away, catching the man’s eyes.

“Just so you know, if you hurt him, I’m going to kill you,” he said, and he was taken aback by the level of conviction in his own voice. Peter met his gaze without hesitation.

“I know we ended up being a  _ bit  _ of disaster, Christopher,” he said slowly, “But I hoped even you would concede that I’m not a damned rapist.”

He didn’t sound hurt exactly, but it was as close as Peter could get and Chris knew he was completely serious. It was enough to make the vice around his stomach relax a fraction.

“This is really fucking awkward,” Stiles said in a strangled voice. Just like that, the tension between them broke apart. Peter plucked the drink from Chris’ hand, and tuned to the boy with an absolutely charming smile.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he said ruefully, “You have to forgive us, we’re just old men with old grudges.”

Stiles pursed his lips.

“Yeah well. From this end, it looks more like I’m the urinal in your pissing contest, so please miss me with the condescension. And miss me with the piss too, if you actually had that in mind,” he said, his nose adorably scrunched.

Chris choked back a snort, and Peter’s grin turned positively wolfish.

“Oh, don’t you worry your pretty little head, darling, I plan to take very good care of you.”

Stiles raised a nonplussed eyebrow.

“I don’t have a ‘pretty little head.’ My head - and the contents of it - are worth three million dollars and counting according to Forbes, and you will need more than that to impress me.”

Stiles had his particular ‘I might be young, but I can run laps around you, son of a bitch’ face on, the one he usually wore around old investors turning their nose up at the tech industry, and in that moment, Chris knew they would be okay.

He took a sip from his glass with a smile, and plopped down in his armchair, feeling a lot lighter than he did five minutes ago.

Peter actually held up his hands in surrender - and that was a thing not usually associated with a Hale, and especially not this one.

“I meant no offence,” he said, his smile a lot smaller, and a lot more honest.

Chris had to suddenly realize that Peter did actually  _ like  _ Stiles. He’d almost forgotten that Peter was even capable of such things.

Stiles pursed his lips, looking determined, like he did when he was facing a particularly difficult line of code, and then ditched his tie, pulling it from around his neck with a jerky tug. He didn’t even look at Chris, and he wasn’t sure if it was for the boy’s sake, or for his. 

Before Stiles could start on his shirt, Peter stepped up to him, snatching his hands. Their noses were almost touching.

Chris had to take another sip of his drink, throat suddenly dry.

“Allow me? As an apology?” Peter said, his eyes heavy-lidded as he watched Stiles lick his lips.

Stiles swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook that easily,” he said, missing ‘haughty’ by a mile, his voice hoarse with want.

Chris could practically see Peter deliberately holding back and  _ not  _ commenting on that. Instead, the man started on Stiles’s buttons, letting his thumb brush over the freshly revealed skin as he went. 

Stiles’ hands twitched by his side, his indecision obvious.

They looked fucking intimate, and Chris didn’t know how to feel about that. Or about his cock slowly filling in his pants.

“You do look gorgeous, darling,” Peter said a few seconds later, when he gently tugged Stiles’ shirt tails from his trousers, letting his knuckles run down his exposed belly. The boy sucked in a breath. He was blushing hard, just looking at him, Chris could almost taste the heat of his skin.

“I’ve been told,” Stiles said with fake confidence, and for the first time since they’d started, his eyes cut to Chris. His pupils were blown wide, but there was uncertainty there too. And worry.

Chris shifted in his seat, letting his legs fall open a little more, just to let his boy see the bulge between them. He had to smile as Stiles’ gaze zeroed in on his crotch, and was glad to see the relief on his face.

“Hey, now,” Peter said, pouting, turning Stiles’ head back forward with a finger under his chin. “This is my show, darling, don’t go wandering.”

Chris could feel the renewed confidence in Stiles as he stared back at Peter.

“Well, maybe you’re not running it too well.” 

Peter’s eyes narrowed, and in the next heartbeat, he was surging forward, slotting their mouths together. Stiles moaned, his hands flying up to fist in the man’s hair, getting on his tippy-toes as Peter grabbed a handful of his ass, squeezing.

Chris breathed out very slowly, adjusting himself. There was a confused mix of anger and arousal swirling in the pit of his stomach. This was everything he feared, and somehow everything he didn’t dare to hope.

It was disconcerting; how he could simultaneously remember how each of them kissed - Peter all fire and fight, Stiles eager and a bit needy - and still be left wondering how they felt to each other.

“Do I have your attention now, darling?” Peter growled as they broke apart, and Stiles nodded, his lips red and spit-slick. 

“Good.” He slid the shirt off Stiles’ shoulders, making him shiver before he even reached for his belt. “Because I’m going to eat you out until you forget that we’re not alone,” Peter continued. “And then, I’m going to fucking you into forgetting that he ever existed.”

Chris shifted, rubbing a cursory hand over his cock, feeling his insides burn. As much as he knew that Peter was excellent in bed, he knew this was just talk.

But he certainly was eager to see him try.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a lot of fun to write, and I hope you guys will enjoy it too! <3
> 
> All my love to Emma!

Stiles bit the pillow, his back arched as Peter licked along his hole, his stubble rasping against his skin and raising goosebumps on his arms.

“That’s all you have?” Stiles asked after he managed to unclench his jaw. 

Peter snorted, probably knowing how on edge he was. Then again, there was no way to hide his cock hanging heavy between his legs.

“Oh, darling, I’ve barely even started,” he said, massaging the globes of his ass with rough fingers before diving forward again, his tongue soft and hot and insistent and too good to bear.

Stiles cursed under his breath, willing his body to keep it together. It didn’t work. He couldn’t help pushing back against the man’s mouth, hungry for more of those biting kisses, those soft lips working him open.

Fuck.

Still. There was one thing Peter didn’t manage to do. Stiles pried his eyes open with great difficulty, his gaze finding Chris, sitting in his chair, watching them, his eyes burning with emotions he couldn’t name.

His fingers were white around his glass of whisky, his body held carefully, like a tiger about to pounce, locked in a cage. 

But he was hard. There was no mistaking that. The only thing Stiles hoped was that this… whatever  _ this  _ was wouldn’t fuck them up beyond repair.

It was like Peter could read his thoughts, because he bit at his ass, making him hiss, just as he pushed a finger into him. After nothing but a tongue teasing him for so long, it was electric to have something solid pressing into him. It was too little, but it was still  _ something _ .

Stiles made a noise he wasn’t proud of, and could just catch Chris licking his lips before his eyes fell closed.

“That’s more like it,” Peter said smugly. “You want another one, darling?”

Stiles kept his mouth shut out of sheer stubbornness, but it didn’t look like Peter would be satisfied with his silence. He snorted, running that long finger along his walls, curling it just right over his prostate.

Stiles twitched, feeling his hips pump the air on their own accord. His belly clenched with want, and he wasn’t sure how long he could keep it at bay.

“Oh come now, no need to be shy. We are here to have fun, aren’t we? And how can we do that if you’re not being honest?” Peter asked, his voice silky enough to be a caress on its own, brushing along his spine.

Stiles bit his lips hard enough to hurt and rubbed his face against the pillow, his whole body trembling as he tried to keep it in check with the last of his sanity.

“Fuck you,” he moaned out, just for good measure.

“Stiles, Stiles, Stiles…” Peter tutted. “I see you need a bit more convincing.”

The man dug his finger in deeper, pressing a biting kiss onto the small of his back. He smoothed his other hand up along Stiles’ thigh and then over to his belly, carefully avoiding his leaking cock. He was pretty sure he was already making a mess of the bedding with how much he was dripping.

Peter spread his fingers over his navel, just petting him as he fucked him with his finger. It was good, it was tortuously good and not enough, and they both knew it.

“You know, I could keep doing this all night, darling… keep you right on the edge until you’re sobbing.”

Stiles groaned, his fingers twisted into the sheets. Oh god, he would die. He would  _ die _ .

“Or…” Peter teased, intentionally missing his prostate over and over again. Stiles didn’t know how, but he just  _ knew  _ the bastard was looking right at Chris. “Or, I could give you another, hm? And another… I could stretch you out real nice. Get you ready for my cock. I bet you would love that, darling, hm? Have a nice, thick cock in there… All you have to do is ask.”

Stiles panted, jerking when he heard a clunk. He knew it had to be Chris putting his glass down, and for a second he imagined him launching at Peter to make him stop this fucking… torture. 

He wasn’t sure if he wanted that to happen.

Except, the next sound he heard - over the rush of the blood in his ears - was the unmistakable sound of a zipper being opened.

Oh god. Chris…

The knowledge that his lover was touching himself while watching as Stiles was being ruined… It was the last straw.

“ _ Yes _ ,” he said, voice barely more than a whine. 

“Hm? What was that, darling? I’m afraid I couldn’t quite catch it...” Peter said, raising his head from where he was licking around his finger buried in Stiles’ hole.

“Oh,  _ fuck you _ , you fucking… asshole,” Stiles moaned. “Yes, I want more!”

Peter had the audacity to laugh, but at least he was true to his words, and finally - blessedly - pushed in another finger. There was barely any burn with how turned on Stiles was, but it was still the best thing he ever felt, and when the man started to scissor his fingers, he almost blacked out.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” he asked, and added a third one, sending Stiles gasping for air. “You’re almost there… If only you would ask nicely, I could give you my dick too.”

Stiles squeezed his eyes closed tightly, pushing back into Peter’s hand, but he was pissed enough not to give in.

“Fu…  _ You  _ ask nicely, you fucking tease,” he bit out, and was rewarded by Peter making an affronted noise the same time Chris chuckled.

He thought he would rile Peter up finally, making him lose his cool, but - once again - he had to be disappointed.

After a second of calculating silence, Peter leaned over him, braced on one arm while he kept fingering him open to whisper right into his ear.

“That can be arranged, darling,” he said, his lips brushing Stiles’ lobe and making him shiver. “Let me put my dick in you? Let me fuck you nice and slow… and then dirty and fast… Will you let me, darling? Will you let me fuck you into coming on my cock?  _ Pretty please? _ ”

Stiles shuddered, his hole clenching around Peter’s fingers.

“Come on, darling… We both know you’re gagging for it. Please…?”

Stiles swallowed, the man’s breath caressing his face, almost - but not quite - overpowering the sound of Chris jerking off in his armchair.

“ _ Shit _ .. fuck. Yeah, yes. Okay.”

Peter kissed the sensitive spot behind his ear, and Stiles could feel the shape of his smile against his skin.

“Thank you, darling, you’re very generous,” he whispered before straightening up. 

Stiles thought he would go mad when he pulled his fingers back, the emptiness in their wake eating him alive, but Peter was quick to replace them with the blunt, hot head of his cock, rubbing it over his rim slowly.

“Your wish is my command.”

***

Peter fought down a moan as he finally pushed into Stiles’ hole. It was hot and wet and everything he hoped for.

He gripped the boy’s hips hard enough that he suspected there would be bruises there tomorrow, and he couldn’t help thinking about how Chris will, in a day or two, fit his hands right there, trying to reclaimed them for himself.

It wouldn’t work, of course, he was confident that Stiles would never forget this - if he did a well enough job, and he intended to do just that.

“You see,” Peter said as he slowly pulled back, only letting the head of his cock stay in that soft heat. “I can be the bigger person, darling.”

Chris snorted off to the side, and Peter retaliated with fucking back into the boy quick and deep, deep enough to punch a loud, desperate moan out of him. Then another.

“That’s it… Take it, darling,” he said, feeling a bead of sweat roll down the back of his neck. God, this kid… Chris really did luck out.

“Give it to me, then, you bastard,” Stiles said, shooting a glare at him over one pale shoulder, making Peter frown.

The boy was way too coherent.

Peter grabbed the back of his neck, pushing him into the pillows. He could almost feel his pulse race under his fingertips.

“As. I. Said,” he growled, punctuating every word with a thrust of his hips hard enough to rattle the bed, “Your wish is my command.”

Stiles finally went silent, his mouth enticingly open, his lips bitten red. He looked lovely enough to chip another hole into Peter’s resolve. He wasn’t sure he would be able to go gentle even if he tried.

Just from the corner of his eyes, he glanced over at Chris, and found him looking right back, their gazes meeting.

Chris looked good. Peter didn’t know what could have been the cause of it… Maybe it was the that time passed since their break up. Or his hideous family finally getting what they deserved. Or maybe it was Stiles. Peter certainly felt invigorated by the hot, squirming ass he was currently balls deep in.

Maybe it was all of the above.

In any case, Chris didn’t look nearly as hurt as Peter expected him to be when he won the bet, and he wasn’t sure he even minded. There was something in the other man’s eyes, something hot and heady, that made his hips pump faster, made his fingers squeeze just that little tighter around Stiles’ lovely little neck.

Chris’ hand was busy, stroking his cock, fast and purposeful, but Peter knew he wasn’t anywhere close to coming. Not yet.

“He likes it rough,” Chris said with a twitch of his lips. Peter couldn’t decide if he was angry or thankful for the comment. But his cock still twitched at hearing Chris’ voice like that, all deep and heated.

“Noticed,” Peter bit back, stopping for a second to circle his hips and make Stiles moan so sweetly again.

“You can go harder than that,” Chris suggested, and Peter knew he was only fucking with him, but still had to put a little extra ‘oomph’ behind his next thrusts. At least the noises it pushed out of Stiles made Chris a little more glassy-eyed too.

“Don’t need instructions,  _ Christopher _ ,” he growled, and the man narrowed his eyes at him.

“Oh, really, Peter?”

“Can’t remember you comp-” 

To Peter’s utter shock, Stiles reached back and slapped his thigh hard enough to sting, making him stop dead in his tracks.

“I told you to miss me with the bullshit,” he said, voice hoarse and his eyes burning with anger as he peered back at Peter. “Miss me with the bullshit, and aim for my prostate instead, you ginormous asshole, or I will kick you off and lock both of you losers out of this fucking room while I jerk off.  _ Alone _ . And happy.”

The accusation in his tone would have left the ego of a lesser man shattered, but thankfully Peter’s was bullet proof.

He let go of Stiles’ neck, smoothing his palm down his spine as he started fucking him again.

“You’re completely right, darling, I’m…”

Before he could even finish the sentence, Stiles was moving, getting out from under him and grabbing his arm.

“You know what?  _ No _ . You are both horrible, and I was promised  _ fun _ ,” he said, yanking on Peter until he was flat on his back. 

He straddled Peter’s hips, grabbing his cock to keep it steady with one hand while bracing the other on his chest as he slowly sank down. Peter actually had to close his eyes for a second from how good it felt.

“Neither of you can be trusted,” Stiles panted out as he slowly started to move. He was absolutely gorgeous, his lean body practically dancing as he fucked himself on Peter’s cock.

His hands flew to Stiles’ hips, but he knew better than to try to control him. Even Peter knew how to pick his battles.

Stiles bit his lower lip, his head thrown back, his ass squeezing down on Peter’s cock tight enough to make him forget his own name.

He couldn’t take his eyes off the boy, mesmerized by the way his hips moved, by the way his ass grinded down against him, his long fingers digging into his chest. In a few, treacherous seconds Peter was on the edge of coming, and all he could do was let his hand flutter over to Stiles’ hard, angry looking cock.

“Let me…?” he asked, brushing it with just the tip of his fingers. 

The boy moaned, whole body twitching.

“Yeah… I’m close.”

Peter licked his lips, unconcerned by the sound of Chris groaning in his chair as he came. His focus was solely on Stiles, on his lovely, slender cock. He took it in his hand, not jerking him off, just letting the boy fuck into his grip in his own rhythm.

That was enough, and a moment later Stiles was coming with a broken little sob, smearing his fingers with come, his hole clenching and clenching and clenching around him until Peter was done too, eyes unseeing as he came.

Stiles collapsed beside him, a heap of sweaty limbs and labored breathing.

All Peter could do was pull him in and close his eyes to bask in the aftershocks of his orgasm a little longer.

The next thing he knew was the lights being turned off and the rustle of clothes. He knew he should be moving, getting up and out the door, but he didn’t think he could. And he didn’t want to, to be frank.

The mattress dipped a bit when Chris got in the bed on Stiles’ other side.

“I’m still gonna match the money raised,” Peter mumbled into Stiles’ hair, not even caring when Chris’ hand joined his on Stiles’ hip.

The boy hummed and Chris squeezed his fingers.

“That’s very generous,” he said, making Peter smile.

“Eh, not really… I cheated.”

“ _ Fucker _ ,” Stiles said under his breath, but he still snuggled closer.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at udunie.tumblr.com
> 
> Please leave a comment if you like it!


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